


Waiting On a Friend

by shessocold



Category: The Rolling Stones
Genre: '60s, Best Friends, Bisexuality, Complete, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Kissing, M/M, Mild Smut, The Glimmer Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:14:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: Mick has an epiphany.





	1. Chapter 1

“Mick, what the fuck are you doing?”

Mick, his face hovering inches above Keith's, gives Keith what he probably believes to be an enigmatic smile. In reality, it makes him look slightly cross-eyed. Keith rolls his eyes. 

“Get into bed, you idiot,” he sighs. “You're going to freeze. Are you drunk?” 

“Nope. No time for sleeping, Keith. I just had an epiphany,” replies Mick, importantly. 

“An epiphany. Right. What time is it?” 

“Half past six.” 

“I can't believe you. What did you wake me up for, are you mental?” 

“I needed to talk to you,” Mick says, the tip of his nose now basically touching Keith's. “My friend. My lovely friend.” 

“What's wrong with you? Are you high?” 

Mick shakes his head. 

“I met a girl. Lovely girl. Talked all night. Ended up telling her about you. She reckons we should give it a try. Widen our horizons.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Mick smiles a big dopey smile, running the back of a freezing hand along Keith's jaw. Keith mutters a curse. 

“Ok, come here, you mad idiot,” he orders, grabbing Mick by his bony wrists. “Under the covers. Take off your shoes. Right. There's a good lad,” he says, putting his arms firmly around Mick to make sure he doesn't dash off somewhere. The imbecile is almost painfully cold to the touch. “Now try to make some sense, for a change,” Keith adds, to the back of Mick's head. “Which girl are you talking about?” 

“Just a girl I met,” says Mick, dreamily. “I told her all about how you are the loveliest person I've ever met, and she reckons we should try it. Properly.” 

“Try _what_ , Mick?” 

“Be together. Well, sleep together. Get even closer. I love you, you know that? You're my best mate. I'll never leave you.” 

Keith sighs. 

“I know that all too well,” he says. “No need to threaten me.” 

“Do you love me too?” 

“Of course I do, you silly cunt. You're my mate.” 

Mick makes a small contented noise, drawing Keith's arms tighter around himself. 

“Do you mind if we wait until tomorrow? For the horizon widening bit?” he asks, his voice sounding quite sleepy already. 

Keith snorts with laughter. 

“That won't do at all! Here I was, dying for a chance to get into your stupid pants at the crack of dawn, and now I'm denied? This is it, Jagger, we're done,” he announces, indignantly. 

“But I want to!” whines Mick. “Only I'm really tired, and it's so warm here under the blanket, it makes me sleepy.” 

“I'm taking the piss, you twit,” says Keith very tenderly. “Go to sleep. There,” he adds, managing to place a kiss onto Mick's cheek. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” says Mick, and the smile Keith can hear in his voice does more for warming Keith over than all the blankets in England could.


	2. Chapter 2

“Good morning,” says Keith, lighting a cigarette. “How are you feeling?”

Mick blinks a couple of times. Judging by his bleary eyes, Keith feels that the answer to his question is probably not going to be 'splendidly'. _And all of this from a couple of glasses, most likely_ , he thinks, privately amused. 

There is a brief pause. 

“Why am I in your bed?” says Mick, apparently finally coming to terms with the fact that he's definitely lying on the wrong side of the room. Keith leans back against the opposite wall and takes a drag off his cigarette. 

“Well, you came back late last night – early this morning, actually – and you were bloody near freezing and spouting nonsense, so I took you into bed with me, for which you can thank me now,” he allows, with a little flourish of the hand. “Also, apparently you want to get into my pants,” he adds, conversationally. 

Mick sits up, looking rather alarmed. 

“What do you mean I want to get into your pants?” 

“Well, Michael,” Keith says, struggling to keep his composure, “I believe your exact words were 'I reckon we should widen our horizons', which apparently involves me getting to bugger you. Or you getting to bugger me, you weren't clear on the specifics,” he adds, finally breaking into a grin. 

“Aw, you're fucking with me,” says Mick, sounding relieved. “Very funny.” 

“I'm really not, mate. I mean, it's extremely funny indeed, but you really did say those things, my darling idiot,” says Keith, reaching out to muss Mick's hair up. Mick bats Keith's hand away. Keith retreats to the other side of the room, laughing, and focuses on his cigarette. 

“And what did you say?” asks Mick after a while. 

“Huh?” 

“When I told you I wanted to bugger you.” 

“Well, you didn't say that in so many words,” concedes Keith, still grinning. “You were quite romantic, actually, quite sweet. Perfect bloody gentleman. Told me you think I'm lovely and that you will never leave me, no matter what. I appreciated the sentiment. And I told you that of course I love you too, and that you are my best mate in the world,” he adds earnestly, because of a flicker of hurt he thinks he has seen in Mick's eyes. “Everything ok? Honestly, mate, it was pretty funny. You were pissed. You know how you get when you drink.” 

“I'm sorry,” says Mick, and Keith has the impression that he's avoiding his gaze. “I shouldn't have bothered you with that nonsense.” 

“Honestly, Mick. All in good fun. Hey, look at me,” says Keith, putting his cigarette off in a nearby glass. “What's wrong?” 

Mick's mouth twists slightly. 

“I'm embarassed, ok? I shouldn't have told you that kind of stuff. You're my friend and I want it to stay that way.” 

Keith sighs. 

“There's nothing you can do to mess up the friendship between me and you, mate. I promise,” he says, joining Mick on the bed. “Besides, I was quite flattered by your proposition.” 

“You were?” 

“Well, yes, I suppose I was,” says Keith with a shrug. “You're quite fit, as far as blokes go.” 

Mick seems to consider his next words extremely carefully. 

“What would you say if I asked you again?” he says finally, staring into Keith's eyes. Keith is shocked to see that he's shaking slightly, either with nerves or because of the fact that they couldn't afford any heating. His shoulders look very thin under the crumpled jacket he has slept in. Keith wishes he had gone out and nicked something for them to eat. 

“Well, are you?” he says quietly. Mick nods slightly. He looks very hopeful, very shy, very unlike his normal cocky self. Keith feels the same peculiar feeling of warmth he had felt the night before. He grins. “It's settled, then,” he says, reaching out to touch Mick's pale cheek. “We're doing this.” 


	3. Chapter 3

“Here, I got you a fancy sandwich,” announces Mick, handing Keith a triangle of bread the size of a stamp. “There's more where that came from,” he adds. “but I have no idea what's inside it, so I thought we'd better make sure it's edible before securing additional ones. Honestly, it might have just been part of the party decorations. You be the judge.”

Keith grins. 

“Thanks, mate,” he says, putting the stamp sandwich into his mouth. It's delicious, and he reckons he would need an additional couple of dozens of them if he were to make a meal out of it. “Very delicate. Some sort of salmon mousse, perhaps? I would have given you a bite to try, but alas, I don't have a magnifying glass on me.” 

Mick laughs. His mouth is so big that his whole face gets scrunched up when he laughs, Keith notices, feeling weirdly like there are things about Mick that he is just _seeing_ for the first time. Like how intensely blue his eyes are, or how improbably pretty his face remains even in its current scrunched-up state, or really, even just the part about how truly gigantic his gob is. All details that until the previous night have been just stashed away inside Keith's general 'my mate, Mick' mental file, and are now competing for his attention. He suddenly realizes he's looking at Mick the way you'd look at a girl, really taking in everything about his appearance. He feels himself blush. 

“Well, I'm off to procure more fancy sandwiches, then,” says Mick. “See you in a bit.” 

“Wait,” says Keith, grabbing Mick by the sleeve of his jacket. “Forget about the sandwiches. Follow me.” 

Mick's eyebrows shoot up in sudden realization of what Keith means, and it's his turn to blush rather furiously. It's cute on him. Keith, trying to act as bold as he wishes he felt, guides Mick into what turns out to be a bedroom filled with everyone's coats. He closes the door behind them and they are alone for the first time since Brian barged in on them that morning. He feels his heart thumping somewhere in his throat. 

“You look very nice tonight,” he says, in a voice quite unlike his own. “I really love your... scarf.” 

“Thank you,” replies Mick, playing nervously with said scarf. “You look lovely, too.” 

They smile at each other, standing a few feet apart in a room where every available surface was covered in coats. It's a pretty bizarre situation, all considered. Keith pictures himself just walking back into the party and pretending like nothing ever happened. He wonders if Mick is thinking about the same thing. 

“Oh, to hell with this,” said Mick suddenly, and he closed the distance between them. “If I don't do this now, I'll regret it forever,” he declares, and then he kissed Keith. 

He's a good kisser, Keith supposes, engaging and attentive. It feels very weird to kiss someone who isn't shorter than you are. It also feels extremely weird to kiss someone who you can feel getting hard against your leg, he thinks with a jolt. Somehow, in all the fantasizing about Mick he has done since their conversation that morning, he has never _really_ thought about the fact that cocks might be involved at some point. All his hypotetical scenarios had been very tame, very sweet. A few kisses, holding each other's hand, maybe a bit of cuddling against the cold in the darkness of their room. And now Mick is pressing his hard cock against Keith's hip. 

The sudden shift in perspective is electrifying. 

Keith puts his arm around Mick's waist, pulls him in even closer. He wants to press himself against Mick, wants Mick to feel him. Mick moans. A vision of Mick on his knees – lips around Keith's cock as he looks up at him – suddenly fills Keith's mind, and he feels his legs go weak. Mick laughs, holding him up. He smells very good. Keith can't think of any other place he'd rather be. 

“Don't get too excited,” Mick says, very quietly. “You know this is all against the law, right? Maybe we'd better take this home. God knows we can't afford a fine. Well, I suppose at least they'd feed us regularly if we go to jail,” he muses, grinning. “But still, I'd rather not. Shall we take our leave?”


	4. Chapter 4

“I can't feel my feet,” complains Keith, shifting his weight from one numb extremity to the other. “I really don't think we're gonna live to see the end of this bloody winter,” he adds, a touch theatrically.

Mick grins, locking their front door behind him. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he announces, reaching into his coat. “Here!” he says, and in the palm of his hand Keith sees enough change to keep the meter running at least through the night. 

“Where did you get those?” he asks, baffled. Mick generally seems to consider himself above stealing. 

“Nicked them from someone's coat at the party, didn't I? I couldn't very well bring you home to a freezing flat and expect you to put out,” jokes Mick, and Keith feels himself shiver with anticipation at the idea of he and Mick getting undressed together. Which is silly, because before the weather turned too cold they used to hang around the flat with their pants over their heads, purely to aggravate Brian (Phelge, who is insane, is still doing it). Yet he now finds that the idea of getting Mick out of his clothes turns him on immensely. The intensity of what he's feeling must show on his face, because Mick is now looking at him with a slightly puzzled expression on his own face. 

“I was kidding,” he says, uncharacteristically sweet. “You don't have to do anything. I just wanted it to be nicer.” 

“I was thinking about how much I want to get you undressed and into my bed,” admits Keith. “The idea of you naked in front of me is driving me out of my mind.” 

“Oh! Oh, well, right. Thank you,” says Mick, and for the second time in a couple of hours Keith sees him blush rather violently. Keith is willing to bet that his friend isn't half as shy when in a similar situation with some girlfriend, but then again this is probably uncharted territory for him too. Or is it? He concludes that he'd rather not know. “Shall we turn the heating on, then?” 

Mick nods. 

“Go ahead and do it,” he says, handing Keith the coins. “I'll fix us a cup of tea.” 

** 

“I think I had forgotten how it feels to be truly warm,” says Mick, stretching luxuriantly on Keith's bed. His shirt has come slightly undone and Keith can see a triangle of pale stomach skin above his trousers. He wants to kiss it, but he settles for kissing Mick's cheek instead. Mick's face lights up in a smile. 

“Hi,” he says, putting one hand on the back of Keith's neck. “Come here, darling.” 

Keith had sort of expected it to turn awkward at some point, but he finds that lying in bed and snogging Mick is not that different from sitting around with him and making music: just another exciting way of spending some time with his favourite mate. _Thank God Brian isn't here for this, though_ , he thinks, finally working up the courage to approach Mick's belt buckle. Under him, Mick grins. His lips look red and swollen, and Keith feels bad about not having shaved that morning. Or maybe for being too rough in his approach to kissing? He suddenly feels extremely self-conscious. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

“ _What?_ ” 

“Your mouth, it's all swollen. Did I kiss you too hard?” 

Mick laughs. 

“Keith, this is how my mouth _looks_. Stop staring at it. Weren't you about to undo my belt? I was enjoying that!” 

“Well, yes, I think it's about time we get rid of your trousers,” agrees Keith, reassured. “Let's see what we have here.” 

It turns out that what Mick has there works very well for assuaging an anxiety Keith didn't even know he had. 

“It's not much,” Mick comments, completely unbothered, his hands interlocked behind his head. “But it does the job. Now c'mon, let me see yours,” he urges, a filthy look in his pretty eyes. “I bet it's huge.” 

Keith obliges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very amused by the fact that Keith thinking Mick has an unimpressive dick is, you know, real life canon.

**Author's Note:**

> Annoying Mick/long-suffering Keith is my favourite thing. https://i.imgur.com/AuojtZ4.jpg


End file.
